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COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT; 



THE MAN IN THE 
CROW'S NES? 



THE MAN 
IN THE CROW'S NEST 

And Other Talks to Children 



BY 

FRANK T. BAYLEY 




THE PILGRIM PRESS 
BOSTON NEW YORK CHICAGO 






COPYRIGHT, I9I3 
BY LUTHER H. CARY 



THE. PLIMPTON* PRESS 
NORWOOD* MASS* U*S*A 



*0 7? 

©CI.A354606 
lie. h 



CONTENTS 



PAGE 

The Man in the Crow's Nest . ... l 

The Center Fielder 3 

The Boy Who Played With Herod ... 5 

How Not to Do It . 7 

The Chip and the Ship 9 

A Parrot That Doesn't Talk 11 

Two Eagles 13 

Something which a Boy Broke . . . . 15 

Taking Hold with God 17 

The Man at the Telephone 19 

.The Slow Boy . 21 

The Man Who Walked with God . . . 23 

Cradle Making . .25 

Two Dwellers in the Sea 27 

The Octopus 29 

[v] 



CONTENTS 



PAGE 

What a Man Saw In a Stone . . . .31 

Happy Harry 33 

Standing in God's Smile 35 

The Wheelbarrow and the Automobile . . 37 

A Light in the Doorway 39 

Making Faces . . . . . • • . 41 

A New Rule for Multiplication 43 

A Bag of Feathers 45 

When the Easiest Isn't the Best .... 47 

Would the Angels Stop at Your Home? . 49 

Why the Train Stopped 51 

He Couldn't Disappoint Her . . . . 53 

A Good Man in Jail $$ 

How the Moon Helps the Sun .... 57 

The Other Side of the Hill . . . . . 59 

A Round 61 

Tumbled Out of the Nest . . . . .63 

The Man Who Couldn't Let Go. . . . 65 

Room to Grow In 67 

Crooked Bins and How They Are Found Out 69 
[vi] 



CONTENTS 



PAGE 

A Preacher On a Vole . . ' . . . . 71 

Three Little Travelers 73 

Sand in the Shoes 75 

Why She Didn't Save Herself .... 77 
What a Ropemaker Did for the World . . 79 
The Bible and the Cook-Book . . . .81 

A Loaf of Bread 83 

Are Squirrels Wiser than Boys? .... 85 
A Little Key to a Great House . . . .87 

The Mist and the Mountain 89 

The Kite That Had Its Own Way . . .91 

Money in the Bank . , 93 

A Railing On a Roof 95 

A Beautiful Sceret -97 

A Soapmaker Who Remembered ... 99 
A Man with a Big Iron Bedstead . . .101 
Cheating the Teacher 103 



[vii] 




1 WAKENED ONE NIGHT TEMPTED 
to think anxious thoughts. It was very 
dark; and you know how much worse 
things seem in the dark. I was on a big ship, 
lying in a narrow bed which they call a berth. 
All day long we had seen nothing but water and 
sky; not even a ship in sight save our own, as it 
went plunging through the waves. And now the 
black night had settled down. The fog-whistle 
was blowing; and fog at sea always means danger 
of collision. I could hear the throb of the 
engines and the whistling of the wind. It seemed 
to be whistling for other winds to come for a 
picnic; and when the winds have a picnic at sea 
it means a storm. As I thought of my friends 
far away and how deep the water was under the 
ship, I felt a little heartsick. Just then I heard 

[i] 



THE MAN IN THE CROW'S NEST 

a voice cry: "All's well! Four bells (which 
meant two o'clock) and all's well !" It was the 
man in the crow's nest, which is a sort of barrel, 
open at the top, hung high up on the mast near 
the bow of the ship. When it begins to get dark 
the watchman climbs into the nest, leaving only 
his head above the barrel, and there the watch is 
kept all through the long night. Every half hour 
he calls out, "All's well!" and tells the time in 
sailor fashion. It was a comfort to hear that 
cry! Why should I be troubled? While he 
was watching I need not worry. So I turned over 
and shut my eyes with a quiet heart and fell 
asleep, saying to myself those sweet words from 
God's great Book: "He that keepeth Israel shall 
neither slumber nor sleep. The Lord is thy 
keeper!" If you ever waken in the night and 
feel a bit troubled, just remember that God him- 
self is watching and "All's well." Then turn over 
and go to sleep. 



M 




THE 

Center Fielder 



IF YOU LIKE A GOOD GAME OF BASE- 
ball, you know all about him. If not — well, 
I am sorry for you. It is a fine game, and 
you miss a good deal by not enjoying it. It is the 
center fielder's business to catch the ball which the 
batsman sends away out in the field, a long way 
from the other players. It is a great sight to see 
him run at top speed and then just catch it! He 
must be a swift runner, able to judge while the 
ball is yet in the air where it will fall; and he 
must get there before the ball does. He often 
saves the game by a fine catch. And he does not 
often miss. 

How did he come to be so skillful? He has 
only two hands, two feet and one pair of eyes, 
just as everybody else has. But if somebody else 
tried to make the play, he would be very sure to 

[3] 



THE CENTER FIELDER 



fail. What makes the difference ? It is practice — 
long, hard, steady work. Oh, it is work that 
tells ! Remember that when school begins ! 
Your hands, your feet, your eyes and your mind 
are doubtless quite well enough. But they will 
count for little unless they are trained by hard 
work. And that is just what school is for; to 
make you skillful and a winner in the great game 
of life. He who thinks that a "smart" boy can 
get along without work will pay a hard price for 
his mistake. He will be like the untrained 
fielder. See him, with his hands sprawled out to 
catch the ball ! It will catch him, instead. And 
he will lose his game, get a sore hand and be 
laughed at. Boys, are you ready for business 
when school begins? 



[4] 




IT TELLS ABOUT HIM IN THE BOOK 
of the Acts. Do you know the passage ? His 
name was Manaen. He grew up a good and 
useful man and became an officer in the church at 
Antioch. But his playmate, Herod, was that 
dreadful man who allowed a wicked woman to 
kill John the Baptist, about which I am sure you 
know. 

When I see boys playing together it sometimes 
scares me to think how far they may drift apart ! 
Going to the same school, living even in the same 
homes, we cannot be sure that they will go side 
by side to the end. There are many paths 
through the world, and they don't come out all 
alike. Some of them lead to the dark, deep pit; 
while others go right up to the Beautiful city 
of God. 

[51 



THE BOY WHO PLAYED WITH HEROD 

The boys and girls who read this will have to 
choose their own way, more and more. Each 
of you will come often to the cross-roads ; and 
everything will depend on which road you take. 
Sometimes there will be no sign board, and Father 
or Mother will not be there to guide you. I 
know of a great and wise Friend who is always 
near, who knows where all paths lead, and who 
loves to guide. If you will ask him, he will keep 
you on the right road. If you learn how to lis- 
ten, you will hear him whisper, "This is the 
way; walk ye in it." And then you have only to 
obey to be perfectly safe. And the best of all 
is that he will himself keep you company, so that 
you will never be alone. There may be a good 
many steps in the long road, and the way will 
sometimes be dark; but he will surely bring you 
to his Father's house. 



[6] 




o 

wo 

THIS IS OFTEN ONE OF THE FIRST 
things that have to be learned. It is not 
easy to do a thing you have never done 
before. There is a right way, but you don't know 
which it is. And when you try the way that 
seems best, it often proves wrong. Then there is 
danger that you will be discouraged and give up 
trying. But to find out how not to do it is a step 
towards finding the right way. 

Mr. Edison tried a great many things before 
he found the carbon thread that burns so brightly 
in the incandescent lamp. Most great inventors 
have a long search before they find their secret. 
And you know how it is when you sit down to a 
"sum" in arithmetic or a problem in algebra. 
Often you do not see the way at first. You have 
to try and try again. But you are all the time 

[7] 



HOW NOT TO DO IT 



making progress. You are learning how not to 
do it, and your mind is growing stronger by the 
trying. 

It's just the same when you are playing hide- 
and-seek. You look in the wrong place at first; 
perhaps in a good many wrong places. But you 
are learning all the while where not to look. 
And after a little you are sure to light upon the 
very place. And then what fun it is ! 

Perhaps you will some day be an inventor; 
finding out something that will be a benefit to the 
world. If so you will need patience for many a 
look in the wrong place. You must spend time 
in finding out how not to do it. Meanwhile you 
may learn patience and perseverance in your 
work and play. "Keep trying!" is a conqueror's 
motto. 



[8] 




the Chip a** the Ship 




THE CHIP IS A SHIP TO THE BOY 
who is sailing it in a play-ocean. But 
there is quite a difference when the two 
are side by side at the big wharf. The chip drifts; 
the ship sails. The chip is carried about by every 
changing wind or current. But the steamer has 
a power of its own which holds it against wind 
or tide and drives it steadily forward. And it has 
a compass which tells it the way to go, so it can 
choose its own course and make its own way. 

The chip never gets anywhere — that is, never 
anywhere that is worth while. After drifting 
about, nobody knows how long, it is likely to be 
ground to pieces by the white teeth of the break- 
ers on some rocky shore. But the steamer! — 
that is quite another story. If you were standing 
on the wharf you would see the last hawser cast 

[9] 



THE CHIP AND THE SHIP 



off; you could watch her as she makes her way 
slowly down the harbor. At length she rounds 
the lighthouse on the point and feels the swell of 
the great sea. The bell in the engine room rings, 
"Full speed ahead!" and she is off. Straight 
away, day and night, through storm or sunshine, 
she holds her course until she drops her anchor 
on the other side of the sea. The secret lies in the 
answer of her great heart to things invisible ; to the 
beckoning of the far-away haven and the needle 
that trembles in the compass. 

There are men, too, that drift and men that 
hold their course steadily to some great end. 
People who live only by what they can see are 
drifters. The men whose hearts answer to things 
out of sight are the men of faith. And they 
are sure to arrive. 



[10] 




TALK 



HE WAS NOT ALWAYS DUMB. HE 
once had a fine voice — for a parrot, and 
could talk quite well. But now he only- 
mumbles and squawks. He doesn't even try to 
say anything. How did it happen? Some time 
ago he was put into a cage with other parrots 
that had no pretty ways; they were content just 
to mutter. So the poor bird forgot what he had 
been taught and began to do as the others did. 
And when I saw him, the other day, he seemed 
content to be no better than they. Even a bird, 
you see, is influenced by the company it keeps. 
Perhaps this may help you to guess why your 
mother is so particular about the children you 
play with ; why she does not like to have you go 
with some boy or girl in the neighborhood. Chil- 
dren are more sensitive to the manners of their 

En] 



A PARROT THAT DOESN'T TALK 

companions than parrots are, for good or ill. 

If you were only a bird, it would be a great 
pity to learn bad ways by being with naughty 
birds. Yet a parrot doesn't matter so much, any 
way. One can easily buy another at the bird 
store. But when a mother finds her dear child 
corrupted by bad companions, what can she do? 
That is the way that many a mother's heart is 
broken. 

Yet the parrots that did so much harm to this 
finer bird were quite beautiful and full of inter- 
esting ways. That made them all the more dan- 
gerous ! If they had been ugly, they might have 
frightened the new comer away without harming 
him. So it is with boys and girls. The danger- 
ous ones are not always homely or unkind. They 
are the more dangerous because they make you 
like them. So you had better let Mother or 
Father help you choose the birds you fly with 



[12] 







» TWO teAl^i*l&Sft 



ONE OF THEM I SAW LAST SUM- 
mer in the Yellowstone Park. It had 
built its nest on the very top of a high 
cliff, overlooking the river. There was its home — 
a nest with birdlings in it. With a spyglass I 
could see them stirring. After a while the mother- 
bird came, sweeping in wide circles through the 
air and settling at last on the nest — a perfect pic- 
ture of strength and liberty. 

A friend of mine tells of another eagle which 
he saw in a great city; its wings worn and bruised 
by its vain efforts to fly. It was a prisoner, 
chained on the sidewalk in front of a liquor 
saloon! Did you know that chains are made in 
saloons? 

I never saw that chained eagle. But I have 
often seen nobler prisoners chained by the saloon. 

[13] 



TWO EAGLES 



One of them I saw one day in a hospital. This 
young man who, a little while ago, had health, 
a good home, many friends and a good name, was 
sick, friendless and alone in a strange city, without 
even proper clothing to wear. He had brought it 
all upon himself by drinking. And the worst of 
it was this : when anybody helped him, he would 
go to the saloon again and bring all his misery 
back. You would think he would keep away 
from that which had cursed him so ! But he was 
a poor slave. The saloon had chained him and 
he could not break the chain. It was a sadder 
sight than the chained eagle. 

What are the boys and girls going to do about 
this monster that puts strong men in chains? I 
hope you will hate the saloon and fight it. Never 
let it catch you! And do all you can to keep 
others from its clutches. Never touch that which 
makes men slaves. Keep your wings free ! You 
will have great use for them. 



En] 




METfflNG^WHICH A BOY BROKE 




ONE ALWAYS FEELS BADLY TO 
see a beautiful thing broken, like a 
lovely vase that stood on the mantel in 
the parlor. I have known a child to have a good 
cry over even a broken toy that didn't cost much. 
And it is all the worse when the broken thing can- 
not be mended. Something was broken one day 
which was very beautiful and precious ; and it can 
never be mended. It was a mother's heart. 

"And who broke it?" It was her own son, 
a boy of about fifteen. "Did he mean to do it?" 
Oh, I think not. "Then how did it happen?" 
I must tell you the story, though it is very sad. 
I am sure he loved his mother, for one evening 
I saw him kiss her good night. But. he broke 
her heart, after all. 

He began by going with bad boys who taught 

[15] 



SOMETHING WHICH A BOY BROKE 

him evil things. Then he commenced to deceive 
his mother, because he didn't want her to know. 
After awhile he began taking things that did not 
belong to him — just little things at first. 

One evening his mother sent him to her room 
on an errand, and there he saw some money which 
she had saved by hard work. It was all she had. 
Yet he took it and ran away with some of his bad 
companions. She never heard of him again until 
a newspaper man came one day to tell her that 
her boy was dead in a far-away city. As I tried 
to comfort her she said, "Oh, I don't want to be 
comforted !" Her heart was broken. 

Every boy is in trust with his mother's heart. 
He can make it glad, or he can break it. And a 
mother's heart is the most precious thing in all 
the world. When it is broken the angels weep. 



[16] 




TAKING- HOLD 

WITH 

Or O U> 



SOME OF THE BEST GRINDSTONES 
in the world are found in the Bay of 
Fundy. But they are down at the bottom 
of the sea and you would hardly guess how men 
ever get them. When the tide is out, which hap- 
pens twice every day, the workmen quarry the 
stones from the solid rock and fasten them to a 
big flatboat. Then in comes the tide, a mighty 
flood rushing in, as though the great ocean had 
suddenly changed its mind. A wonderful sight 
it is — rising often as high as a house ! 

And now the men have nothing more to do. 
They have taken hold with God, and it is his 
power that does the work for them; for the lift 
of the sea is a part of God's omnipotence. The 
silent tide as it rises lifts the boat, and up come 
the stones with it. 

[17] 



TAKING HOLD WITH GOD 



God loves to help men! He has said, "Take 
hold of my strength !" And when men do that, 
they never fail. That is just what the farmer 
does when he plants a seed, and the sailor when 
he spreads a sail in the wind, or the telegrapher 
when he makes God's swift currents his messen- 
gers. For the sunshine which swells the seed and 
the winds that swell the sail and the unseen en- 
ergy that speeds the news — these are all from 
God ; pulses of his power and tokens of his love. 

But there are harder things to do than raising 
grindstones out of the sea. It is very hard some- 
times to be good and to do right; to hold the 
temper or the tongue, to be unselfish, to say No ! 
And those are the times when God especially de- 
lights to help. Every boy or girl may take hold 
of God's strength when there is work to do or a 
battle to fight. 



[18] 







IT WAS FUNNY TO SEE; BUT IT WAS 
fine ! I laughed, but I admired the man. I 
knew he was a gentleman. 

When the 'phone bell rang and he put the re- 
ceiver to his ear, he heard the voice of a lady. 
But she was miles away; why should he lift his 
hat? He wouldn't have done so if he had 
stopped to think. But it is the thing we do with- 
out thinking which often shows just what we are. 
He was accustomed to treat a lady with courtesy. 
And when he heard a lady's voice, though she 
was far away and couldn't see him, off came his 
hat ! It was like a boy's whistling — it did itself. 

It is a fine thing to be so in the habit of polite- 
ness, of truth-telling, of kindness and courtesy 
that one doesn't have to make the effort. The 
right thing does itself or, rather, the person does 

[19] 



THE MAN AT THE TELEPHONE 

it without trying. Behavior is like piano play- 
ing; if you learn right ways, if you form good 
habits, after awhile you hardly have to try. 
Trained fingers take care of themselves. That is 
why a great musician seems to play without effort. 
He would play correctly if no one were listening, 
or in the dark. So a true gentleman will be al- 
ways courteous; an honest boy will be truthful 
without stopping to think about it. A gentle- 
man is a gentleman in the dark. A true man can 
be trusted when nobody sees him. Here is one 
reason why you should always do the right and 
proper thing; you are all the time making your- 
self. And what you are will show itself when 
you are not watching. 



[20] 




THIS SERMON IS FOR HIM, HIS 
mother — maybe for his teacher, too. 
Did you finish the school year a bit dis- 
couraged, Laddie? And do you sometimes think 
it isn't worth while to try? Cheer up! I have a 
message for you. It seemed to come in at my 
window from the trees in the yard; but I think 
it was really from God, to comfort the slow boy 
and his mother. Most of my trees are maples. 
Their leaves came out like jumping-jacks this 
spring! They were like boys going on a picnic, 
who can't get into their suits quickly enough. 
And such suits as these were, of soft, shiny green, 
tinged with yellow! Queer enough that would 
be for boys or girls; but nothing could be finer 
for a tree. The Artist who mixes the colors for 
the great outdoor world never makes a mistake. 

[21] 



THE SLOW BOY 



But one tree lagged behind. It had hardly 
a leaf when the others were in full dress. Yet 
you should see it now! It has caught up; and 
all summer long it will be the finest of all the 
trees. God does not make all the trees alike. 
The elm doesn't waken so quickly as the maple 
at the kisses of the sun. Perhaps it sleeps more 
soundly — which isn't a bad fault. And so it is 
with girls and boys; God does not make them 
all alike. Some of them are late sleepers. But 
when they wake up, watch them! They are 
worth waiting for. 

But remember, the elm was not lazy; it was 
just slow. It was doing its best all the while. 
And God is never impatient with the slow elm. 
But I wouldn't like to comfort the wrong boy! 
Some boy might call himself a slow elm when he 
is only a lazy maple. 



[22] 



ALL YOU CHILDREN KNOW, I AM 
sure, the story of the man who walked 
with God in the long ago. But some 
boys and girls — poor things! — do not have any- 
one to tell them about the good people of the 
Bible. 

There was a little girl who had never so much 
as heard of Enoch! Playing, one day, with a 
playmate whose mother had taught her the beau- 
tiful story, her little friend chanced to mention 
him. "And who was Enoch?" the poor child 
asked; "I never heard of him." So the girl who 
knew began the story : 

"Once, a long, long time ago, there was a man 
whose name was Enoch. He lived in a country 
a great way off; and he was such a good man that 
God used to come every day and walk with him." 

The playmate was very still; for it seemed to 

[23] 



THE MAN WHO WALKED WITH GOD 

her a strange thing that God should come down 
from his beautiful heaven to walk with a man. 
She wondered how the story would end. And 
she wondered all the more over it when the child- 
preacher said: 

"Well, one day they kept on walking and 
walking — a long, long way. Enoch was very 
weary and after a while God said: 'Enoch, 
we've taken a long walk to-day. You're a great 
way from home and you're tired. You can just 
come in and stay with me.' So Enoch didn't 
come home any more." 

Enoch's family must have missed him and if 
they didn't know what had become of him they 
were very sad. But if they knew how he walked 
with God every day, perhaps they didn't wonder 
that God wanted to take him home with him. 

The story of Enoch may be true of you and me. 
If we will go God's way, God will walk with us 
every day, because he loves us. And some day he 
will take us to his own home, to live with him 
forever. 

M 




MAY IS THE MONTH OF CRADLE- 
making everywhere. Everywhere dear 
babes are being born and swung in won- 
derful cradles sheltered by curtains of delicate 
green, just suited to shade a baby's eyes from the 
sun. The good Father cannot be far away, I am 
sure ; for every little while a gentle hand rocks the 
cradle to and fro, as the babes stir in the nest. 
All children know the Rock-a-by Baby on the Tree 
Top. I think every mother sings it to her little 
ones. But, dear children, have you ever seen a 
cradle in the tree-top? I know you would like 
to. And I want to tell you where you may find 
it, and the tender nurse that rocks it. 

You will not have far to go, I hope, to find an 
apple orchard in bloom. There the great God, 
who loves all little children, is preparing a feast 

[25] 



CRADLE MAKING 



for them to enjoy when apples are ripe. But 
God has something for you in the orchard before 
the apples hang upon the boughs. He is invit- 
ing you into his nursery, to see his beautiful 
babes. Did you know that every blossom is a 
tiny cradle, in which a baby apple is sleeping? 
And the breezes are God's nurses that rock the 
cradle with tender touch. 

I hope you will never pass an apple orchard 
without thinking of God's nursery. Perhaps he 
could just as well give us apples without flowers. 
But God dearly loves beauty and he has made 
it for us to love. So he brings every apple into 
the world as a little babe; makes for it the ex- 
quisite cradle on the bough and sends the winds 
to rock the cradle under the leafy curtains. And 
he makes the nursery wondrous sweet, so that the 
bees love to visit it and the passer-by hears sweet 
music. The bees must be singing of the sweet 
babes they saw as they peeked into the swinging 
cradles ! 



[26] 







YOU MAY SEE THEM BOTH IN 
the great Aquarium at Naples, living in 
huge tanks of salt water, side by side. 
One is the Coral-Maker, so small that he is often, 
though incorrectly, called an insect. He and 
his brothers are always working together in great 
companies; and there are neither strikes nor 
lockouts. 

Their work is under water, where they build 
in wonderful shapes and colors. Some of it re- 
sembles the most delicate flowers, in brown, 
purple, orange and gray. They know better 
than to build on a poor foundation; for they 
start from the solid rock at the bottom of the sea, 
building up, up, up, until they reach the surface, 
and then they die! But their lives have not 
been wasted. Out of their beautiful work ex- 

[27] 



TWO DWELLERS IN THE SEA 

quisite ornaments are made, such as ladies are 
proud to wear. Some of it the waves beat into 
soil ; and the kindly winds bring little seeds from 
afar which lodge there and grow, making green 
grass and shrubs and trees. After a while there 
is a beautiful island, where people make homes 
and God sends little children to live. 

So the tiny coral, though it is so small and 
dies so soon, has a part in the making of God's 
wonderful world. Wouldn't you like to have 
something to do to make God's world more beau- 
tiful, and a better place for people to live in? 
That is just what God plans for you, dear chil- 
dren. If you will give your lives to him, he will 
show you how to make them both beautiful and 
useful. 



[28] 



Tmm 




HE LIVES IN THE OTHER TANK OF 
which I was just telling you, right 
alongside the coral-workers, in the 
aquarium at Naples, But though close together, 
they are not a bit alike. The octopus is much 
bigger than the coral-maker. He has eight long 
arms and this is the reason they call him by the 
queer name he bears. Each arm is covered with 
tiny suckers, arranged in rows. These are the 
fingers by which he takes hold of things. His 
body is short and stout, and he has two eyes that 
bulge out of his head, as though he was trying 
to see behind him. He looks like a huge spider, 
only uglier. 

Usually he lives near some rock in the water 
and he likes to pull himself into a hole or crack 
in it, where he lies with his long arms reaching 

[29] 



THE OCTOPUS 



out for some careless little fish to come his way. 
And then woe to the little fish ! It will never go 
home any more. One day I saw them feed the 
octopus. A man let a little crab down from 
above, on the end of a string. When the horrid 
creature saw it coming, he pulled out of his hole 
in the rock, grabbed the poor thing with one of 
his great arms and down it went into that hungry 
mouth ! 

If you were to be made over and live in the 
sea, I am sure you would not want to be an octo- 
pus! You would rather be a coral-maker; to 
do something beautiful and useful. But you can 
make the choice without being anything else than 
a boy or a girl, for just such a choice comes to 
everybody. There are people of both these kinds : 
some who live to make the world better, and 
others who are always watching for a chance to 
snatch something for their own selfish pleasure. 
Of which sort will you be? 



[30] 




A. 



IT WAS A PIECE OF MARBLE WHICH 
somebody had hacked and marred and cast 
aside as worthless. It had lain for years in 
a rubbish-heap, soiled and half buried in dirt. 
But there came a great day when the man saw 
it who was a great artist. A real artist is one who 
can see what nobody else can see — in a flower, 
a stretch of beach or a piece of stone. And this 
man saw in the rejected block something which 
seemed as though it might be an angel! And 
with the artist-key, which they call a chisel, he 
set to work to bring it out of prison. 

For many days he labored; now making the 
marble chips fly as he hammered with fierce eager- 
ness, now working slowly, with delicate touch, 
and often stepping backward to see the angel 
figure afresh. And one day the prisoner came 

[31] 



WHAT A MAN SAW IN A STONE 

forth, radiant in white. But it was no angel! 
It was the noble figure of a young man, eager to 
serve the God whose voice he had heard. It was 
David ! standing with his sling in hand, ready to 
meet Goliath. 

That was more than 300 years ago. The statue 
stands to-day in a great gallery in Italy, where 
I hope you may some day see it. 

Our Lord Christ looks upon people as Michael 
Angelo did upon the blackened stone. He sees 
all our faults and sins. But he sees what he can 
make of us, if we will only let him. He will 
lay his sharp tool upon us, and it will often hurt. 
But he will bring out, little by little, not an angel, 
but something very beautiful in his sight — a boy, 
a girl, a man or woman strong and pure, radiant 
in white. 



[32] 




IN A PLACE WHERE THE SHADOWS 
of a great mountain fall, there lives a man 
whom everybody calls Happy Harry. I 
think few people know him by any other name. 
Long ago he found a great treasure and, though 
it is very precious to him, he is always sharing 
it with somebody. He did not find it among the 
hills where men look for gold, or in the woods 
where boys love to look for wonderful things. He 
found it one day in his own heart. And it has 
been there ever since. 

It is not money or fine things that make him 
happy. He lives in a very plain little house and 
every day he earns his bread by hard work. 
Long before children are awake he goes to the 
market to load his wagon with fresh fruits and 
vegetables from the market-gardens. And all 

[33] 



HAPPY HARRY 



day long, in all kinds of weather, he is driving 
through the alleys of the city, selling his wares. 
His treasure is always with him. Nobody could 
ever steal it, for he keeps it in his heart. And 
it is his treasure that makes him happy. Indeed, 
that treasure is the secret of a happy life. 

One day he heard a whisper that God loved 
him ! And that is his treasure. Though he lives 
all by himself in the little house, he would tell 
you that he is never alone. His great Friend is 
always with him. He is always helping some- 
body, just as Jesus was. Out of his small earn- 
ings he is fitting three poor girls for college! 
Every Sunday he delights to show his treasure to 
the prisoners in the jail; and nothing makes him 
so happy as when some of them hear the whisper 
for themselves. 



[34] 




IT HAD BEEN A CLOUDY AND DARK 
day and people were hungering for the "clear 
shining after rain." Late in the afternoon 
the clouds broke ; the sky was full of them, fleeing 
like defeated squadrons from a battlefield. The 
sun was conqueror! And the winds were his 
cavalry, chasing the foe. 

A little boy was standing by his mother's side 
when a bright ray of sunshine streamed in 
through the window. He moved across the room 
and stood in the midst of it, calling to his mother, 
"Mamma, me standing in God's smile !" 

The boy grew to be a man. His mother had 
gone to live with God in the Land of Light. 
He had come to be a favorite at court and cared 
more to please the king than to please God. 
One day, as he was looking over some old papers, 

[35] 



STANDING IN GOD's SMILE 



a little parcel caught his eye. Opening it he 
found a tiny pair of blue shoes, with a bit of 
paper on which he read in his mother's hand- 
writing this sentence: "These shoes were worn 
by my darling boy at two years of age, when he 
stood in a ray of sunshine and said, 'Mamma, me 
standing in God's smile!' God grant that he 
may always stand in God's smile !" 

Then he saw that he had been so anxious for 
the king's favor that he had lost God's smile. 
That night, before he slept, he found it again. 
And it was so sweet that he was careful ever after- 
ward to stand in it. 



[36] 



TIE WIEL§ME®W *»• *«* ■AJ91T4i8SML£ 




IT WOULD BE A QUEER QUESTION 
were I to ask, "What is the difference be- 
tween them?" I should like to hear the 
children's answers! I am sure they would not 
be all alike. There are many differences, of 
course, in size, shape, weight and in other ways. 
But I think the greatest contrast is this : the auto- 
mobile goes itself, while the wheelbarrow never 
moves unless somebody moves it. It stands as 
helpless as a stone until some one trundles it. 
But the auto, though it has been standing quietly 
for an hour, suddenly begins to move, though no- 
body is pushing it. 

But does the automobile really go of itself? 
Something inside the machine makes it go, to be 
sure — a hidden power. But how did the power 
get there? It never got there of itself, and the 

[37] 



WHEELBARROW AND AUTOMOBILE 

auto never could have put it there. The auto 
was made by some one, just as much as the wheel- 
barrow; and the maker put the throbbing heart 
into it. It would take a finer mechanic, too, to 
build an automobile than a wheelbarrow. 

Many wonderful things seem to go of them- 
selves. The bud opens without anybody's touch- 
ing it. Silently the fruit comes out of its flower- 
cradle. And nobody turns a crank to make a 
boy grow. The power is on the inside, just as it 
is in the auto. But how did it get there? 
Only Some One with a mind to plan and a will to 
act could ever make a seed sprout, a bud unfold 
or a boy grow. And that Somebody is God. 
We never see his hand moving anything; the 
power is on the inside. But it is God's power, 
and he put it at the heart of things 

"He only is the maker 

Of all things near and far ; 
He paints the wayside flower; 
He lights the evening star." 

[38] 



" i; 1!||!f^ LIGHT m THE..--. 

. DOORWifdr ~ 



V*v v *N 



/' / /' A\ *- Vvv V \ 



EASTER SHOWS A LIGHT IN THE 
doorway through which we all must pass. 
We call it the gate of death. No one 
would like to go through a door opening into the 
dark, especially if he had to go alone. But Christ 
has put a light in the path, close by the door, so 
that no one need be afraid. And he has told us 
that death to the Christian is only the way to our 
Father's house. Christ has done more than this for 
us. He not only set the light just where the strange 
path opens, he went through the gate himself, and 
on the Resurrection Day came back to his dis- 
ciples, to show that death had not harmed him. 

People sometimes say that we can know noth- 
ing about the great world that lies beyond death; 
but they are wrong. Jesus has told us very 
plainly some dear things about it. Just before 

[39] 



A LIGHT IN THE DOORWAY 



he died, he told his disciples that he was going 
to prepare a place for those who love him. It 
must be a beautiful place if he prepares it who 
has made so beautiful this world which is only 
our schoolhouse; for the home must be finer far 
than the schoolhouse. He said, too, that he 
wanted his friends to live with him in that glor- 
ious place; and that when the gateway opens, he 
would come to take them home. 

Surely, no one who knows Jesus need be afraid 
to die, for he will keep his promise. He will not 
leave us to take a single step alone. We shall 
just walk with him along the path which he has 
lighted, into our Father's house. 



[40] 




IT IS OFTEN VERY POOR BUSINESS— 
when you do it on purpose. But there is a 
way of making a face which I commmend to 
all the children. It is a slow way, taking a good 
deal of time, and one is never thinking about it 
when he is doing it. He never does it on purpose. 
Have you not read about Moses, how his face 
shone when he came down from the mountain 
where God talked with him? It is said he did 
not know that his face shone. But the people 
who saw him knew. The shining face would 
have been spoiled if he had been saying, "Look 
at me !" 

Did you know that a person is all the time mak- 
ing his own face — making it noble or base, beauti- 
ful or ugly? The process is quite different from 
the work of the sculptor, who molds the clay with 

[41] 



MAKING FACES 



his hands. When a man molds his own face he 
does it from the inside and not with his hands at 
all. His thoughts, his feelings, his wishes and his 
purposes — these are the instruments he uses. 
They work silently and he does not realize what 
they are doing; but he is all the time making his 
own face. 

Would you, my dear girl, like to have a beauti- 
ful face? You can! Even if you were born 
homely, that need make no difference. You can 
never make your face beautiful by anything you 
put on it. But if you will keep your heart pure, 
do loving deeds and let Christ live in you, your 
face will one day be radiant because love has 
molded it and the inner light shines through. 



[42] 



A NEW BJULE FOK 

AK MULTIPLICATI 




1 WONDER IF IT IS IN YOUR ARITH- 
metic ! It is one of the best rules in all the 
world, but it isn't in all the books. You 
know the old rule, of course, but this is a great 
deal more "fun." (To think of fun in arith- 
metic!) It is a multiplication — by division. 
Does that puzzle you? Perhaps you are saying: 
"When you multiply you get more ; but when you 
divide you get less. How, then, can you get 
more by making less?" 

I will tell you the rule if you will promise two 
things: to try it, and then to explain it to some- 
body. Of course you will try it, for of what 
use is a good rule if you don't use it? And when 
you have seen it work, I know you will want to 
share it. Let me explain the rule by an 
"example," as the books do. 

[43] 



A NEW RULE FOR MULTIPLICATION 

Suppose you have something that is very nice 
— oh, so nice! To multiply by this rule, just 
divide it; give some of it to somebody. Then 
you will certainly have more than you had before. 
Not more of the thing you divided — but more 
of something which is far better. For it is a pe- 
culiar thing about this rule that it not only multi- 
plies, but it changes the kind. Under the old 
rule, if you multiply two oranges by two, you 
have four ; but they are only oranges. When you 
multiply by dividing, you have an orange — and 
the pleasure of sharing, which is certainly much 
more than just oranges! You get, not more 
orange, but more pleasure. And, after all, it 
isn't things that make us happy. Isn't it a good 
bargain to exchange things, just things, for real 
pleasure? Who wouldn't be glad to have less 
orange and more fun? 



[44] 




**** 






THERE IS A STORY OF A MAN WHO 
was an officer in the army of a king. 
He had such a temper and let it fly so 
often that they called him "the man with a bit- 
ing tongue." He did not realize how it hurt 
when he spoke the harsh words, though he was 
often sorry afterwards. 

One day the king gave him a bag of feathers, 
telling him to empty them in the street. The 
next day the king sent him out to gather all the 
feathers up, bidding him put every one back into 
the bag again. When the officer explained that 
it would be impossible, since the winds had 
carried them everywhere, the king said: "That 
is just the way with the words you speak. You 
can never gather them up again; not so much as 
one of them." 

[45] 



A BAG OF FEATHERS 



There is but one way to keep harsh, cruel words 
from flying like sharp arrows into somebody's 
heart, where one can never draw them back. 
And that is never to let them go out of our lips. 
Many a man would give a great deal to recall 
some of his words ; but he can never, never bring 
back one of them. I have even known a boy to 
grieve when it was too late because some word 
of his had made his mother's heart bleed. 

Let us keep that bag tied in a hard knot ! The 
winds can never scatter the feathers so long as 
they are in the bag. But once they get out, we 
can never gather them up. A man once prayed 
this prayer: "O Lord, set a watch upon my 
lips !" Is it not a good prayer for us all to offer? 



[46] 



^MBffiK[ TOE EJL^KEgT HSBftr THE ©®^T 




WE ALL LIKE THE EASIEST WAY. 
But the easiest way isn't always the 
best. I thought of this one day when 
I saw a man feeding his hens. As he went into 
the barn the biddies knew very well what it 
meant and they came fluttering and clucking 
around him like children when the dinner-bell 
rings. It is beautiful to see how all the animals 
know those who are kind to them. A peck meas- 
ure was filled with grain from a big chest and I 
expected to see it scattered on the hard, smooth 
floor, where the kernels could be easily picked up. 
But instead of that, the first thing the man did 
was to throw upon the floor several handfuls of 
straw and chaff. And then he scattered the 
grain in the midst of it! That made it much 
harder for the biddies, for they couldn't even see 

[47] 



WHEN THE EASIEST ISN'T THE BEST 

a single kernel. But they knew just what to do. 
They began scratching with all their might, stop- 
ping only to pick up the grains, one by one, as 
they came in sight. It was slow work and there 
was a deal of scratching before they finished their 
breakfast. 

Why did he make it so hard, when he might 
have made it so easy? I asked him and he said 
the hens wouldn't scratch if they didn't have to 
and if they didn't scratch, they would get too 
fat and wouldn't lay so many eggs. 

Then I thought of the boys and girls — how 
they like to have things made easy, at home and 
in school, and how they sometimes complain 
when things are hard. You see, dear children, 
we are in the world not to have an easy time but 
to grow and to be fit for our best work. And 
we can't grow without hard work. That is why 
a wise parent or teacher doesn't make it easy for 
us. That is the reason that God often gives us 
hard things to do. 

[48] 




HAVE YOU EVER WONDERED 
why the angels stopped with the 
shepherds, instead of with some of the 
great people in Jerusalem or in Rome? They 
might have found there fine homes, real palaces, 
with elegant furnishings; great lords and ladies 
in fine dresses and living in splendid "style." 
But they passed on until they came to the 
shepherds, whose home was out of doors or in 
humble cottages, and who lived a quiet, simple 
life. It could not have been because God had 
no message for those who lived in the fine houses 
and had elegant clothes; for the Good News was 
for all the world, and God loves the rich as well 
as the poor. But God sent them where he knew 
they would be welcome. 

No doubt God's angels visit the world nowa- 

[49] 



WOULD THE ANGELS STOP 



days, though we do not see them. The Bible 
says God sends them to help his children, and we 
may be sure they love to come. I wonder if they 
ever stop at your house? They will not visit 
you because of the fine things you have. They 
would not care for those. Indeed, they 
would be grieved if they saw you thinking too 
much of them yourselves. 

What would make them stop at your house? 
It would be the same thing that lead them past 
Herod's palace in Jerusalem and the great houses 
in Rome, to fold their bright wings above 
Bethlehem and stop to talk with the shepherds on 
the quiet hillside. They went where they knew 
Jesus would be welcome. Would he be wel- 
come in your house? Do you think things would 
please him there? Would anything have to be 
different if he came? If you are not sure about 
it, perhaps you will ask your father and mother. 



[50] 




SOMEBODY ONCE WANTED TO 
have his own way and was vexed because 
he couldn't. That somebody wasn't a 
boy. He was a big, grown man! Don't you 
think men are a good deal like boys, after all? 
Maybe your father liked to have his own way 
when he was a boy; and perhaps he does now. 
You might ask your mother. But of course his 
way ought to be a wiser way than yours, since he 
has been learning so much longer. 

It happened on a railway train. The man 
wakened in the middle of the night. The train 
was standing still and as he looked out of the 
window not a single house was to be seen. They 
had stopped in the open country, where there was 
nothing in the world for a train to do. He 
waited and waited for the cars to move. Would 

[51] 



WHY THE TRAIN STOPPED 



they never start? And there was that big loco- 
motive doing nothing but blow off steam! He 
would have complained had there been anybody to 
listen. But the passengers were all asleep ; so he 
just grumbled to himself and thought how badly 
things were managed. 

After a while he heard a rumble, which grew 
into a roar; and in a moment a train went whiz- 
zing past. He trembled as he thought, "What if 
my train had been on that track !" It would have 
been if he had had his way, and there would have 
been a terrible accident. He had not known 
about the "Special." But the despatcher, who 
watches all the trains from his room in the city, 
knew; and he had sidetracked one train to let 
the other pass. 

You see it isn't always best to have one's own 
way, even for a big man. There is a great and 
wise Friend who knows better than we what is 
good for us. He is always watching. When he 
makes us wait, it is for some good reason. Let 
us trust him. I am sure you know his name. 

[52] 




*m ^COULDN T ©I3APPOIKTT 




THERE LIVED IN ENGLAND 
years ago a man who was a writer of 
famous books. He was a great general, 
too, wearing on his breast seven medals which 
he had won by bravery in battle. They called 
him Sir William Napier. His heart was as 
tender as it was brave. Walking one day in the 
country, he saw a little girl crying by the road- 
side. Carrying her father's dinner to him as he 
worked in the field, she had dropped a bowl and 
it was broken. She was afraid of being beaten 
when she went home. 

As Sir William tried to comfort her, she said, 
"But you can mend it, can't you?" He had to 
tell her, No. But he could mend the trouble, he 
said, by giving her a sixpence to buy a new dish. 
When he opened his purse he found he had not a 

[53] 



HE COULDN'T DISAPPOINT HER 

bit of change! So he promised to meet her the 
next day at that very place, bringing the six- 
pence. 

Returning home, he found an invitation to 
dine the next day with a gentleman whom he 
wanted very much to meet. But he couldn't go 
to the dinner and keep his promise to the child. 
When he remembered how she wiped the tears 
away as he promised the sixpence, he could not 
break his word to her. So he declined the in- 
vitation, saying: "She trusted me. I cannot 
disappoint her." The next day he found her 
waiting, and the sixpence made her dance for joy. 
But he was happier than she. 

Every child has a Friend far greater than Sir 
William, with a heart more tender. He always 
knows when a child is in trouble and he always 
cares. He has given many promises to children 
and he never forgets one of them. Do you think 
Jesus could ever disappoint a child who trusts 
him? All the stars are his; but he loves to help 
a little child. 

[54] 




A JAIL IS NOT SUPPOSED TO BE 
the place for a good man. Yet some of 
the best men in the world have been 
prisoners. One of them was the Apostle Paul, 
whose prison you may see in Rome when you go 
there some day — a dreadful stone dungeon it is! 

Three hundred years ago there was a jail in 
the little English town of Bedford. And one 
day they took a man there and shut him behind 
the prison walls who had done no wrong. He 
was a tinker and earned an honest living by hard 
work. But the king forbade him to tell the peo- 
ple about Christ; and he chose to obey God 
rather than man. So they took him from his 
home, leaving his wife and children alone. And 
he was in jail nearly twelve years. 

It must have seemed strange to the people, who 



A GOOD MAN IN JAIL 



knew what a good man he was, that God should 
let him suffer so; and the wife and little ones, 
who could see him only in the prison, must have 
found it very hard. Perhaps the good man him- 
self sometimes wondered. But God had his own 
wise and loving plan about it; and now all the 
world can understand. For during those long, 
hard years he had time to write one of the great- 
est of books which has been printed in many lan- 
guages and has gone over all the world. I hope 
you have read it! The man's name was John 
Bunyan, and his book is called "The Pilgrim's 
Progress." 

God's way is not always plain at first. His 
plan is so large that we can understand it only by 
waiting. But his way is always the best way; 
and he often brings the best things out of the 
hardest. When we cannot understand, it is good 
to wait patiently for him. 



[56] 




IT IS A PART OF THE SUN'S Busi- 
ness to light up this world of ours; to shine 
all day long, so that people may see their 
way. It has other things to do, indeed; yet that 
is a large part of its work. But what shall the 
poor world do when the sun goes down over the 
horizon, out of sight? It would never do to 
leave us altogether in the dark. So the good 
Father, who made the world and never forgets to 
take care of it, has set the moon in the sky to help 
the sun carry on the business. And how does the 
moon help? It has no light of its own, as the sun 
has. But as it sails along, far up above the 
earth, it keeps its face turned towards the sun, 
and the sunlight which it catches it throws down 
upon the earth. 

Do you remember that Jesus said, "I am the 

[57] 



HOW THE MOON HELPS THE SUN 

light of the world" ? But what should the world 
do when Jesus went back to his Father's home in 
heaven? How could it be lighted any more? 
Would not the darkness be terrible when he was 
gone? 

Jesus told his disciples that they, too, were to 
be the light of the world. And that has been 
the beautiful business of every Christian ever 
since; to help Christ lighten the world. And 
there is great need of it, too; for many people are 
living in the dark. Even a child-Christian can 
help. We have no light of our own, any more 
than the moon has. But if we keep our faces 
toward Christ, he will shine upon us. And peo- 
ple will see in us the light which comes from him. 
That is one thing which prayer does; it turns our 
faces toward Christ. And so it keeps us in the 
light which made his face so beautiful. 



[58] 



V\ T 



mmmmz 




THE OTHER SIJSZ QF THE HULL 



I AM GLAD FOR THE BOYS AND 
girls who live where there is a hill in sight. 
Can you see one from your windows? I 
know a boy who used to wonder what was on the 
other side of the hill. The sun went down be- 
hind it on a summer day and sent back golden 
rays that seemed to say there was something beau- 
tiful there. But it was many a day before the 
lad was big enough to go to the top. It was a 
great day when, after a long climb, he reached 
it, faint and weary. Eagerly he looked west- 
ward, where the sun had seemed to go; and what 
should he see but another hill ! And then he be- 
gan to wonder what lay beyond that ! 

Your father, I am sure, has climbed a good 
many hills and found out what was behind them. 
But he, too, has caught sight of a hill, far away 

[59] 



THE OTHER SIDE OF THE HILL 

on the horizon, which he has never climbed; and 
he sometimes wonders what is on the other side. 
Perhaps that is what he is thinking about when 
he sits so quiet by the fire and hardly seems to 
hear when you speak to him. It isn't because he 
does not love you. He is wondering what he 
shall see when, some day, he comes to the top of 
the hill. Maybe he is thinking of a boy who 
went over the hill one day and never came back; 
and that makes him wonder all the more. 

One reason why so many people love the Bible 
is because it tells so much about what lies over 
the hill. And, better still, it tells of a great 
Friend who knows all about it and who will lead 
all who trust him to the hill top and then on to the 
things beyond, which are so wonderful that no 
one has ever seen or heard anything so glorious 
or can even imagine it. 



[60] 



THERE WAS IN ROME MANY 
years ago a rich man who lived in an 
elegant house, one of the largest palaces 
in the world. He wanted an artist to do some 
very fine work for him, and sent his servants to 
find the man who could do it best. After look- 
ing at many splendid paintings and wonderful 
statues, they found an artist who, when asked for 
a sample of his work, took a pencil and drew a 
simple circle. When they showed that to the 
master, he said, "This is the man I want!" And 
he gave him the work to do. 

The artist's name was Giotto. He lived 600 
years ago. But his circle was so perfect that 
even to-day, after so long a time, people speak of 
a fine circle as bei;ig as "round as Giotto's O." 
Isn't it great to be celebrated through 600 years 

[61] 



A ROUND O 



for having done a perfect thing ! What if it was 
a little thing? Perfection is no little thing. 

Giotto became one of the great artists of Italy. 
When you visit Europe, you may find his work in 
many cities. In Florence he was made master 
of the work in the great cathedral. Close beside 
it is the wonderful tower which he planned, the 
Campanile, one of the most beautiful things man 
ever built. Thousands visit it every year from 
many lands. Like his round O, it is a perfect 
thing. And Giotto not only made beautiful 
things, he inspired others to seek perfection. 

Do you ever neglect your work because it is 
"only a little thing" you are doing? Life is 
made up of little things. And by doing them 
well one learns to do his best. If you do your 
very best with small things, you will surely have 
greater things given you to do, as Giotto did. 
You will be an artist some day, an artist in the 
highest of all arts, the art of noble living. Jesus 
said, c Thou hast been faithful over a few things ; 
I will make thee ruler over many things." 

[62] 




TUMBLED 
OUT 

or 
THE NEST 



AND IT WASN'T AN ACCIDENT, 
either. Its mother did it; its own 
mother ! And she did it on purpose. 
Wasn't it cruel? Perched high on a cliff over- 
looking a valley in the mountains, the mother 
eagle had made her nest. There she waited 
many days for the coming of her little one, and 
when she felt it stirring under her feathers she 
was as happy as a bird could be. Yet it was this 
very mother that tumbled her birdling out of the 
nest. 

The nest was warm and cozy, and the young 
eaglet was quite content to lie there, looking out 
over the big world and taking the food which its 
mother brought from afar. But the mother bird 
knew the joy of flying, the ecstasy of sailing on 
widespread pinions, now swooping to pick a fish 

[63] 



TUMBLED OUT OF THE NEST 

out of the river, now soaring into the very face 
of the sun. Flying was so much finer than 
snuggling! No wonder she wanted her little one 
to fly. Day after day she tried to lead the eaglet 
from the nest, fluttering over it and calling loud 
her invitations. But all in vain. The birdling 
seemed to say: "No, thank you! I'm very 
comfortable here." 

So one day the mother tipped the nest and 
threw the little one out. It must fly now or fall. 
With outspread wings it beat the air, doing the 
best it could; often fluttering and sinking, but try- 
ing again. The mother kept close by, catching 
the poor thing on her broad wings when it was 
weary. And so the eaglet learned to fly. The 
mother had no other way to teach it. 

Boys and girls, too, like to be comfortable. 
Wise parents have sometimes to tumble them out 
of the nest that they may learn to fly. And it 
is often God's way with us. We want to be com- 
fortable. He wants us to be strong. He has 
given us wings and we must learn to use them. 

[64] 



^HE MAN 
o 




WALKING ON THE STREET ONE 
day he saw a wire lying on the ground. 
Without thinking much about it, he 
stooped to pick it up. That was natural enough ; 
why shouldn't he? It seemed harmless, to be 
sure. But when he grasped it he couldn't let go! 
He tried to but he couldn't. It was a "live wire." 
A strong current of electricity was running 
through it. It was burning him cruelly and he 
cried out with the pain. His whole body was 
writhing in distress. But his hands still gripped 
the wire, and when men came running to help 
him, they had to drag him away from it by force. 
That is one of the dangers of a live wire. If 
you once lay hold of it you cannot let go, no 
matter how much it is hurting you. I know a 
boy who grasped a live wire a while ago and it 

[65] 



THE MAN WHO COULDN'T LET GO 

is hurting him cruelly. But he doesn't let go. 
He says he can't, even though his mother and 
father are begging him to and the doctor says it 
will kill him if he doesn't. The live wire is the 
cigarette. 

The boy is only sixteen years old, but he is a 
slave. When he began smoking, he was holding 
the wire; but now it is holding him. He has a 
weak heart already, poisoned by tobacco. He 
has to give up some of the sports he loves be- 
cause of it and he knows it is killing him. Yet 
he is clinging to it still, smoking every day, and 
nobody can stop him. If he were holding a live 
wire he might be dragged away from it, but no 
one can compel him to drop the cigarette. 

You can see what habit is. We say a boy "has 
a habit." But after a while the habit has the 
boy. The only way to be safe with a live wire 
is never to touch it. And the cigarette is a live 
wire. 



[66] 




A GARDENER ONCE PLANTED A 
seed in the earthen pot and set it in a 
greenhouse. When it wakened to the 
pleasant light, the little seed was very happy. It 
could think of nothing better than to stay there 
always. But that was not the gardener's plan. 
The pot and the greenhouse would do for a little 
while; but not for always. The gardener meant 
some day to bring the plant out into a bigger 
world, to set it in a glorious garden, with the sky 
for a roof and the great, warm earth to nourish 
it. 

There came a day when the pot was not big 
enough. It was filled with roots, so that the 
plant was cramped and couldn't grow any more. 
So the gardener came with his hammer and began 
to break the pot in pieces. No wonder the plant 

[67] 



ROOM TO GROW IN 



was frightened. What would it do without the 
little pot in which it had always lived? You 
see it didn't know yet about the garden. It only 
knew the comforts of the greenhouse. At length 
the pot was broken. The gardener took the 
trembling plant in his own hands and set it in 
the great, wonderful outdoor world. And when 
it found itself under the sky, watered by the rain 
and the great sun comforting it, it lifted its head 
and laughed that it should ever have wished to 
stay in an earthen pot! 

The gardener's way with the little seed is God's 
way with his children. He puts us here in the 
body that we may begin to grow. But we are 
not to stay here always. After a while we shall 
need more room to grow in. And then God 
breaks the earthen vessel and brings us to live 
with him in his own home, where we shall grow 
more beautiful forever. So we need not be afraid 
when we feel the blows of the hammer. It only 
means room to grow! 



[68] 



CROOKED Ws 

A^SD HOW 

THEY M*£ Pound out 



I VISITED A FACTORY, ONE DAY, 
where pins are made. A long brass wire 
is drawn in at one end of a machine and 
at the other end out come the pins, more of them 
than you could count. Most of them are fine 
and straight, but a few come out crooked. The 
machine drops them all into a great heap, the 
crooked and the straight together. But it would 
never do to send them all to market, for nobody 
wants bent pins. So the crooked ones must be 
picked out from the others and set aside; while 
the straight ones are placed in shining rows in 
paper rolls, such as you see in the stores. 

It would seem an endless task to find them. 
You would never guess how it is done! No- 
body's eyes look for them; nobody's fingers pick 
them out. Each pin is made to confess for itself, 

[69] 



CROOKED PINS 



and to go to its own place. They are all dropped 
upon a ribbon which has two motions; one 
straight forward, horizontally, the other from 
side to side, like a sieve. The straight ones roll 
off easily; but a crooked pin can't roll. So the 
bent ones stay on the ribbon and when they come 
to the end of it, they drop off into a box of waste. 

It made me think of boys and girls. Most of 
them, I think, are "straight," but not all. Some 
have a crook in them. These often pass the 
school tests and graduate with the rest, just as the 
crooked pins run through the machine without 
getting found out. But, like the pins, every one 
will come to a test which will show just what he 
is. Some day the crooked will be separated from 
the straight and each will find his own place — 
the only place he is fitted for. 

Dear children! you are making your own 
place every day, for you are all the time making 
vourselves. 



[70] 



A It PREACHER 

; ^~ POLE 



IT WAS A STRANGE PULPIT! AND 
the preacher was only a spider. But you 
shall judge if the sermon was not a good one 
for boys and girls. A gentleman caught the 
spider in his garden. Wondering how wise it 
might be, he fixed a tall stick in a basin of water 
and put the spider on top of it — a regular Robin- 
son Crusoe stranded on a desert island! Like 
poor Robinson, the spider wanted to get away. 
And, unlike poor Robinson, he was able to do so. 
The first thing was to study the situation. He 
slid down the pole to the water, stuck out a foot, 
got it wet and shook it, as a cat does. Then he 
crept around the stick, to make sure whether the 
water was on all sides of it. He found no way 
of escape. And what then? Was he discour- 
aged? Did he say, "It's no use?" Not he! 

[71] 



A PREACHER ON A POLE 



Climbing to the masthead he held council with 
himself. 

A sudden thought seemed to strike him. He 
held up one foot and then another, to see whether 
there was wind enough to float one of his silken 
threads to the edge of the basin. Sure enough, 
there was ! Then he began to spin the web stuff 
out of his little factory. Every breath of air 
floated it out further and further toward the 
mainland, where, at last, it caught on the edge 
of the basin. Then he drew it tight and, like a 
gymnast, ran down the guy-rope and got safely 
ashore. 

Don't you think a boy should be ashamed to 
say, "I can't do it!" when the answer to his 
problem doesn't come the first time he tries? I 
can hear the spider laugh at a girl who says, "I'm 
just discouraged!" because she has a hard lesson 
in school or a difficult task at home. God, who 
gives the spider its wisdom, has given wits to 
boys and girls. He always helps his children 
when they do their best to find a way out. 

[72] 



^g^;^im 



THEY WERE COMING ALL THE 
way from Germany to a town in Illinois, 
a long, long journey. And they were 
all alone. They had friends in the old country, 
but there was no one who could come with them 
to America. Yet they never had a bit of trouble. 
All the way along they found friends. Every- 
body was kind and ready to help. Isn't it a won- 
derful story? Let me tell you how it happened. 
Their friends in Germany believed in God and 
were sure that he cares for little children. They 
sewed to the clothing of each child a bit of cloth 
on which was written the name of the place to 
which they were going. Then they gave them a 
little book, on the blank page of which was 
written, in German, in French and in English, a 
single sentence. And when the children started 

[73] 



THREE LITTLE TRAVELERS 



they told them, "If you ever get into any trouble 
or need any help, just open this book and hold 
it up before you." 

Then came the long journey by steamer across 
the great sea and afterwards by railway. , Nearly 
three weeks they were traveling; and always they 
found some one to help them — sailors, conductors, 
brakemen and all sorts of people. 

What words were those that made every one so 
good to these strange children? They were 
these words of Jesus, "And the king shall say, 
Verily, inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of 
the least of these, ye have done it unto me." 
When any one read those words Jesus seemed to 
be speaking. Nobody could be unkind to his 
little ones. So it was that Jesus was with them 
all the way, and brought them safely to their 
journey's end. I think they must have loved 
him ever afterwards. 



[74] 




SAND «?»« 5HOES 



IT MAKES WALKING ANYTHING 
but easy! A big rock in the path wouldn't 
give half so much trouble. You can just 
walk around the bowlder and that is the end of it. 
But those pebbles in the shoes ! You carry them 
along with you and every step you take they 
hurt. I know well enough, though, that every 
boy or girl would very soon sit down by the road 
and shake the sand out of both shoes and then go 
on rejoicing. Of course! 

But there are some people — grown-up people 
— who are not so wise. They have a good many 
troubles, some of them large, like the bowlder in 
the road, but most of them small. And the small 
trials plague them a good deal more than the big 
ones. They have learned to leave the greater 
difficulties to God. The bowlder is too large for 

[75] 



SAND IN THE SHOES 



them to lift out of the road; so they just leave it 
to the Heavenly Father, as they have a right to 
do, and go on their way. But the sand grains in 
the shoes! those are the petty trials; the things 
that fret Mother about the house, the trifles that 
vex Father at the store. And these they just carry 
about with them, 

To be sure they lay them aside at night, 
usually. But they keep them carefully where 
they can put them on with the shoes the next 
morning. And as the days go by, they pick up 
more pebbles, which they keep for another day. 
It's not strange that they get woefully footsore. 

I wonder if people think that God cannot be 
trusted with the pebbles as well as with the big 
bowlders! He has said, "Casting all your care 
upon Him, for He careth for you." That must 
include the pebbles. 



[76] 




IT HAPPENED ONE SUMMER DAY IN 
a wild canyon of the Rocky Mountains. A 
picnic party was looking among the big 
bowlders for a nice place to spread the lunch. 
It was hard climbing, the rocks were so big and 
tumbled about as though giants had flung them 
at each other in battle. 

One of the climbers stumbled and fell. In- 
stead of putting out her hands to save herself — 
and you know how natural that is ! you can hardly 
help doing it — she fell at full length, striking her 
face upon the stones and severely cutting it. 

Can you imagine why she did not put out her 
hands? Only one thing could have kept her 
from doing it. She had her baby in her arms — 
a dear little tot about two years old — and she 
held it up, clear of the rocks, as she fell. She 
couldn't save her child and save herself. 

[77] 



WHY SHE DIDN'T SAVE HERSELF 

That is just like a mother! Mothers never 
save themselves. They are always doing and 
suffering for their children. I am sure you could 
fill this sermon out yourself, as you recall the 
things your own dear mother has done and 
suffered for you. I should like to see a list of 
them. I know it would be long. Maybe you 
will send me one. 

I wonder if you have ever told her how much 
you love her; how glad you are that God gave 
her to you. I wonder if you sometimes try to 
do for her something which may show a little of 
your love and gratitude. 

Mothers often make me think of Christ, who 
might have saved himself, but would not because 
he "came not to be ministered unto but to minis- 
ter," and to give his life a ransom for us all. 



[78] 




WHAT 

A / 

ROPEMAKER { 

DID „.*-*/*" 

FOR TJHtfe 



gft>i 



JUST ONE MAN, AND ONLY A ROPE- 
maker! What could fo do for the world? 
Day after day and all day long his work 
was just making rope. Don't you think it must 
have been dull business sometimes? I wonder if 
he didn't think now and then that it wasn't worth 
while to do his best! I am sure he resisted the 
temptation to slight his work, however weary he 
might be, for I happen to know about a bit of his 
rope which did great work for the world one day. 
Did you know that such a story was in the 
Bible? You may find it in the book which gives 
us the life of the great apostle. Soon after Paul 
became a Christian, he was staying with friends 
in the city of Damascus. The governor of the 
city wanted to take him prisoner, and perhaps 
to kill him. Guards were placed to watch every 

[79] 



WHAT A ROPEMAKER DID 



door of the house. But they forgot the window 
which opened into the street, outside the wall. 

Some of his friends put Paul into a basket — 
it must have been a big one — to let him down 
through that window into the street. Then came 
the ropemaker's chance ! A piece of his rope was 
in the house. They fastened the basket to it and 
Paul was let down slowly and carefully until 
his feet touched the ground; and so he escaped. 
Suppose that rope had been poorly made and had 
broken ! Paul might have been killed in the fall. 
Just think of it ! At that time he had not begun 
to tell the people of Asia and Europe about Jesus 
and not one of his letters, which we call epistles, 
had been written. How much was hanging upon 
that rope! What a loss to the world if he had 
been killed! And all because some man had 
made a poor bit of rope. Aren't we glad it was 
well made? 

You can never tell when some piece of your 
work will be tested. You may serve the world 
some day. Are you making your rope strong? 

[80] 




HAS YOUR MOTHER A COOK- 
book? I am quite sure she has. And 
out of it come many delicious things for 
the family table — pies and puddings, meats and 
vegetables, to say nothing of bread and cookies. 
Not that any of these good things are really in 
the cook-book. Mother has to make them with 
her own hands unless she has somebody in the 
kitchen whom she can trust. But in the cook- 
book are the rules by which the cooking is done. 
It is a very valuable thing — that cook-book and 
after a while it looks well worn and old, because 
it is used so much. Yet old and homely as it 
is, Mother would never think of doing without it. 
Suppose the old book were put away on the 
top shelf or kept in an old trunk! It might be 
elegantly bound in Russia leather or fine calf and 

[81] 



THE BIBLE AND THE COOK-BOOK 

the edges gilded; but it wouldn't be of much use, 
would it? And nobody would believe that it 
was really thought much of. You may be sure 
the cook-book will never be treated in that way, 
It is kept close at hand and used nearly every 
day. At any rate, the rules it gives are used, 
even though Mother knows them so well that she 
does not need to look in the book every time. 

Do you know that the Bible is for daily use 
as much as the cook-book? It is God's book to 
live by. Here are rules for a sweet temper, a 
pure heart, a happy home, the friendship of God 
and the way to heaven. It is truly the greatest 
and best of books. It is worthy of being beauti- 
fully bound and carefully kept. But we really 
honor it and get the good of it only when we 
bring it into our lives. Is that the way it is used 
in your house? 



[82] 




IffliriHIIillllllhnl'lllllllllllllllinmilll^lllllilllllllllumill^lllllllllllBIIMIIlllimilllllliiJlglllimMlM.llllllUMUiliMiiiMiiun.n.i.MHn 



THANKSGIVING DAY IS COMING! 
I can see the tables in many homes, 
loaded with good things and surrounded 
by happy children. You will be thankful for 
many things that day. I wonder if you will thank 
God for the loaf of bread? It is such a small 
thing — just bread! And you have it every day 
which can't be said of the big turkey. But you 
ask God each day, I am sure, to "give us this day 
our daily bread"; and the table would be pretty 
poor if you didn't have it. And wouldn't it be 
a shame not to thank him just because he gives 
it, as you ask him to do, every day in the whole 
year? 

Have you ever stopped to think what God has 
to do with the loaf? To be sure, Mother mixed 
the flour and baked the bread; or perhaps it 

[83] 



A LOAF OF BREAD 



was the baker-man. But where did the flour 
come from? The miller made it from the wheat 
which grew in the field; the farmer raised the 
wheat on his farm. But where did the seed come 
from? And who made it grow in the field? 
God gave the farmer his seed; no man in all the 
world could make a single grain of wheat ! And 
when the farmer planted it, it was God who sent 
the rain out of the clouds, and the sunshine that 
beckoned the little seed and made it grow. God 
is the giver of every raindrop and it is his sun that 
rises every morning to warm the earth. 

So it is easy to see that God is the real giver 
of the loaf. He sends it as his loving remem- 
brance of our need; that we may grow and be 
strong, and that we may be ready for useful work 
in the world. 

"Back of the loaf is the snowy flour, 
And back of the flour the mill ; 
And back of the mill is the seed and the shower, 
And the sun, and the Father's will." 



[84] 




THAT WAS WHAT I WAS WONDER- 
ing early one summer morning as I lay in 
a tent in the woods. Just as the light be- 
gan to come, I heard a patter on the tent. It 
was too heavy for raindrops, and I wondered 
what it was. It seemed as though something was 
dropping out of the treetops. And so, indeed, it 
was. The squirrels were beginning their day's 
work. Climbing to the tops of the high fir trees, 
they were gnawing the cones from the branches 
and dropping them to the ground. 

Now, no boy ever loved to play more than the 
squirrels do. It is fun to see them scamper, with 
their bushy tails over their backs, chasing each 
other among the trees, and jumping from limb to 
limb with never a fall. But they know it will 
not always be summer; that winter is coming, 

[85] 



ARE SQUIRRELS WISER THAN BOYS? 

when the deep snow will cover everything and 
they cannot gather their food in the fields. And 
they are wise enough to make ready for winter 
while summer days last. 

The cones which drop from the big trees they 
pick up, one by one, carrying them in their teeth 
to hide in snug places. And when winter comes, 
they have plenty to eat; for in the cones are tiny 
seeds which make a fine meal for Mr. Squirrel and 
his family. 

Boys have as good a right to play as the squir- 
rels have, and it is more fun to see them. But it 
will not always be playtime. Boys grow to be 
men and there is work for them to do in the world 
which they can't do unless they are ready for it. 
What will happen by and by if they have not 
laid up a store of knowledge? A boy who loves 
to play but refuses to study will be worse off than 
a squirrel who frolics all summer and lays by 
nothing for the long, cold winter. 



[86] 




•;>: : ^Vv^- 



A LITTLE KEY TO A "I^EATETOU^E 





^J^\ 




FROM MY WINDOW I SAW A LADY 
and gentleman peering through the win- 
dows of the next house. They were think- 
ing of renting it, and wanted very much to look 
through it. But it has a good many rooms, and 
from the windows they could see very little of it. 
They had come in a fine automobile, and perhaps 
they were grand people— though not all people 
are who ride in automobiles — but they could do 
nothing without the key. A key is a tiny thing, 
but it often opens a big house. 

I know a house far finer that the one next door. 
It has many rooms, more than you could count, 
and they are beautifully furnished and filled with 
costly treasures. You might live there a whole 
year and find new things every day. This won- 
derful house is open to any one who has the key. 

[87] 



A LITTLE KEY TO A GREAT HOUSE 

The owner delights to have guests, and he has 
put the key where you can find it; yet you must 
unlock the door yourself. But when you once 
have the key, you can visit any of the rooms, for 
it will fit every lock through the whole house. 

Would you like to go in to roam through the 
splendid halls, to visit the beautiful rooms? I 
will tell you where you may find the key, though 
I fear you may despise it, after all, because it is 
so small. But first let me give you the name of 
the house. It is the House of Knowledge. The 
great God built it, and it is his; but he loves to 
welcome all who come and to show them his best 
treasures. If you once go in, you may find more 
and more to enjoy as long as you live — and you 
are going to live forever ! 

And the key? It is in your schoolroom! 
Some of you have it already in your hands, though 
I am sure you do not begin to realize what it can 
do for you. The wonderful key is — -the Alpha- 
bet, and you are going to school each day to learn 
how to use it. 
[88] 




ONE SUMMER DAY THERE WAS TO 
be a party. And was there ever a boy or 
girl who didn't like to hear about a party? 
It wasn't to meet in somebody's parlor, nor yet 
in the Sunday-school rooms, but far up on the 
side of a mountain. It was a picnic-party. 

You can think how eagerly we wakened that 
morning and looked out to see the weather! It 
was disappointing; for a fog hung over the hills 
and nobody could see the mountain at all. But 
the lunches were packed and the wagons started 
early — in the heavy mist — started for a moun- 
tain which no one could see. Some of the 
people had never seen it; they believed it 
was there because the others had seen it. As 
we went on, the mist grew thinner and thinner. 
And before we reached the place where the climb- 

[89] 



THE MIST AND THE MOUNTAIN 

ing began, the fog was gone; and there was the 
mountain, shining in the sun. I need not tell you 
we had a fine time. We were glad we had 
walked by faith and not by sight; that we had 
believed in the mountain when we couldn't see 
it, and hadn't minded the fog. In the morning 
the mist was the only thing we could see. But 
the mountain was there all the time, though hid- 
den. And the mist did not stay long. Mists 
never do! The dear old sun is sure to drive 
them away. 

We often need to believe in things we cannot 
see; to set out for the mountain when we can see 
only the mist. That is just what faith means; to 
believe in the mountain and not to mind the mist, 
and to begin climbing without waiting for a clear 
sky. The mist is for a little while ; the mountain 
stands through day and night, and the mist can 
never change it. Whether we see it or not mat- 
ters little. If we only climb, we shall reach the 
top- 

[90] 



HE KITE J 




^/NWAY 



KITE-FLYING IS ONE OF THE 
prettiest of the sports, I think. And there 
are wonderful kites nowadays ; larger and 
finer by far than boys used to have. Some of 
them seem almost like birds! I like to watch 
them as they soar; and sometimes I ask the boy 
to let me hold the string for a minute. I like 
to feel the "pull" ! 

I saw one the other day which acted as though 
it wanted to fly all by itself, with neither boy nor 
string to hold it. It was pulling very hard. 
And now and then it would dash about, up and 
down and sideways, as though determined to have 
its own way. And that is just what happened 
after a while; it had its own way! The string 
broke and the kite was free! But instead of 
soaring higher and higher, it began to flutter and 

[91] 



THE KITE THAT HAD ITS OWN WAY 

dive this way and that; and down it came, until 
it lay flat on the ground, its frame broken and its 
colors soiled. 

Every boy knows that a kite needs a string to 
hold it steady as well as a breeze to carry it up; 
and a boy at the end of the string ! But the poor 
kite didn't know that. 

Coming home, I thought of some boys who are 
impatient to have their own way; who tug and 
tug at the string and sometimes break it. Their 
own way ends often as did the kite's. They 
flutter and fall, and are often badly broken. 

It is fine for a boy to be eager to rise, to show 
what he can do. It is God's way that some day 
he should be free to make his own path. But he 
needs for a while the strong hand of a father or 
mother to hold him steady. He may think it 
unkind that he is not at liberty. But if he really 
had his own way, it might do for him what it did 
for the kite. Steady, boys! steady! You can 
fly finely some day. But not yet. 

[92] 




Wmmgr- 

^liaiE^JLN THE BANK 




I KNOW A MAN WHO IS VERY RICH, 
but he never carries much money with him. 
He does not need to. He can use but little 
at a time, and more would be a burden to carry. 
So he keeps most of his money in the bank, draw- 
ing out what he wants at a time. He knows very 
well that his banker will give him what he needs, 
just when he needs it; so he travels light in heart 
and pocket. Would he not be foolish to try to 
carry about each day all the money he might need 
for a month to come? It would quite weary him 
before he could possibly use it. 

There is a verse in the Bible — I think I will 
leave you to find it — which says, "As thy day so 
shall thy strength be." It means that God is our 
banker, keeping always a supply for all our needs, 
and that he wants us to draw upon him each day 

[93] 



MONEY IN THE BANK 



for whatever may be necessary. And there was 
never such a banker, surely, as God. Yet many 
people seem to feel that they must carry about 
with them all the time the grace they may need 
for to-morrow and a good many to-morrows. 
They often wonder what they would do if some 
dreadful thing should happen to them. Most of 
the things they fear never come, and they wear 
themselves out, like a man who pushes hard when 
there is nothing to push against! They forget 
that they may draw upon the bank that never 
fails. 

We may be sure that God has always enough 
for all our need. He bids us not to be anxious 
about to-morrow. God will take care of us each 
and every day. And he loves to be trusted. 



[94] 




IS THERE ANYTHING IN THE BIBLE 
which tells a man how he should build his 
house? Does God care about such things as 
house-building? And may not a man build his 
own house just to please himself? Some people 
say a man may do what he likes with his own. 

In the twenty-second verse of the eighth chap- 
ter of Deuteronomy you may read that God com- 
manded a Hebrew in building his house to "make 
a battlement" around the roof, so that no one 
might fall off into the street below. That may 
seem strange to children who see only houses that 
have a pitch roof. But the Hebrew houses had 
flat roofs, and people used the roofs a great deal 
as places of rest and social visiting. Sometimes 
the roof would be the best room in the house! 
But without the protection of the battlement, or 

[95] 



A RAILING ON A ROOF 



railing, around the edge, one might easily fall off. 
It wasn't that God cared for the house, you see, 
but for the people. 

God cares for everybody ! He is a great God, 
holding the sea in his hand and guiding all the 
stars. Yet he cares very tenderly for a little 
child. Indeed, he cares for the worst people in 
the world. And he wants us to feel towards 
others as he feels ; to protect them from harm and 
to do them good. 

It is not true, then, that a man may do what 
he pleases with his own, unless what he pleases 
is what pleases God. Whether men build houses 
or make laws or buy and sell goods — whatever a 
man does, God bids him care for others as well as 
for himself. He has no right to do anything that 
will injure another. This is a hard rule to keep, 
unless a man loves his neighbor. But love finds 
it easy to obey. That is why Jesus called love 
the first commandment. 



[96] 



VISITING A GREAT FACTORY, ONE 
day, I went through a room where young 
girls were fastening hooks and eyes upon 
cardboard. Their fingers fairly flew ! 

Among them I noticed an old woman, busy at 
the same work. Her fingers were crooked and 
worn by hard work. I knew she could not keep 
pace with the nimble young fingers about her; 
and I wondered why she was there. I think you, 
too, would like to know. 

Months before, she came begging for work. 
She sadly needed it, for she had a sick husband to 
support. Seeing the girls at their work, she said 
she could do what they were doing. The super- 
intendent knew that she would be awkward and 
slow; and he tried to discourage her. But she 
begged for a chance; so he gave her a place at the 

[Q7l 



A BEAUTIFUL SECRET 



long bench with the girls. It was slow work; 
and she was paid by the piece, she could earn but 
little. Yet she persevered. And after a while 
her pile of finished work began to grow strangely 
fast. There was a beautiful secret about it ! 

Some of the girls, pitying her, were slipping 
some of their cards onto her pile; and it was 
wonderful how they enjoyed seeing it grow. Of 
course her pay increased. Soon she was receiving 
almost as much as the others, and she was able to 
keep her little home in comfort. When Christ- 
mas came, the girls gave her a purse with twenty 
dollars in it. "Is all this mine?" she said, "I 
never had so much money in my life !" 

The story made me think of that word, "Bear 
ye one another's burdens. 5 ' 



L9*] 







HIS FATHER WAS POOR, AND THE 
boy started out to earn his own living 
when he was but a lad. He met an old 
man on a canal boat who asked him what he was 
going to do. "The only trade I know," he an- 
swered, " is making soap and candles." He had 
learned that at home. The man bade him make 
an honest soap, give full weight, give his heart to 
Christ and a part of all his earnings to God. 
He went to New York City, where he prospered 
in business, always doing as the old man had said. 
After a while he became a leading merchant in 
the big city, and his soap became famous. Per- 
haps you have used it yourself; for it is sold every- 
where. Now you want to know his name, I am 
sure. It was William Colgate. He never forgot 
God, but made him a partner in all his business. 

[99] 



A SOAPMAKER WHO REMEMBERED 

At first he gave away a tenth of his gains ; later 
on, two-tenths, and more and more as he grew 
rich. And during his lifetime he gave several 
million dollars to make the world better. It is 
a great thing to make an honest living; a fine 
thing to get wealth. But the best thing a 
man can do in business is to serve God and help 
his fellowmen. The poor boy's secret is an open 
secret. He made something that was useful, sold 
it at a fair price, gave good weight and remem- 
bered God. It is a great thing to have God 
for a partner. And every man may do that, 
whatever his business, if he meets the test 
of honesty and consecration. God has said, 
"Them that honor me, I will honor." 



[100] 







I© lBl©M 3BE&STEAJ5) 




I WONDER IF YOU KNOW WHERE 
the story is in the Bible. He was a king. 
Now a king can make a great name for 
himself by serving his people. But this man, 
after he died, was known as the king with a big 
iron bedstead. It was a wonder in that day, for 
the story says it was kept in the capital city — 
perhaps in a museum. It was quite proper for a 
large man to have a big bedstead ; and it was well 
enough to have it of iron. But to think of a man 
with a king's chances being known chiefly for some 
thing which he owned ! 

There is another Bible story of a man whom 
the people called "Comforter," because he was 
always helping somebody. Nothing is said of 
what he had; but his name shows what he was. 
And everybody loved him. 

[101] 



A MAN WITH A BIG IRON BEDSTEAD 

There are both kinds of people to-day. Some 
are known by the things they have ; others for the 
good they do. I saw in a magazine a picture of 
a bedstead of gold which cost $80,000. The man 
who owned it has gone where he cannot use it. 
Maybe it will go into a museum. I wonder if 
he was related to King Og! I have never heard 
that people loved him. Poor man ! 

A few years ago an English nobleman, who was 
also a noble man, was coming home from a long 
absence. A servant who had never seen him was 
sent to meet him at the train. And when he 
asked how he should know him, the answer was, 
"Look for a tall, fine-looking gentleman who is 
helping somebody." No wonder everybody loved 
Sir Bartle Frere! 

What do people think of when they hear your 
name? Is it a pretty face, fine clothes, a big hat, 
a great house? Or is it a face that shines with 
kindness, a hand that is often helping some one? 



[102] 




HAVE YOU HEARD OF THE HORSE 
who thought it would be great fun to 
cheat her master by pretending she had 
eaten her oats when she hadn't? I should hardly- 
like to say that the story is true; but this is the 
way it came to me. 

The master knew very well that Dollie — that 
was the horse's name — needed a good breakfast; 
that she couldn't do the work of the day without 
it. So he brought some oats in a bag — a big bag 
— nearly full, and put them in the crib. Then 
it occurred to Dollie that she might spill the oats 
and trample them under her feet so that the mas- 
ter would never know, and then, to make it all 
the funnier, she might eat some shoe pegs that 
were lying within reach. The master would 

[103] 



CHEATING THE TEACHER 



think she had eaten the oats; and that would be 
such a joke! 

The story makes me think of a boy who tries 
to "make believe" he has gotten his lesson when 
he hasn't. He gets some other boy to "tell him" ; 
or just before examination he "crams" — which is 
eating shoe pegs. But if he can only make the 
teacher think he has the lesson, what a good joke 
it will be ! It makes him laugh to think of it. 

The one joke would be just as good as the 
other, would it not? and both the jokers would 
be fools. The master is the best friend the horse 
has. The oats are just what the horse needs, and 
if he doesn't eat them, he is the loser. The joke 
is on the horse. He will find that out later. 
When he gets very hungry and weak, the oats 
can't be gathered up, and every thought of the 
shoe pegs gives him a pain. 



[104] 



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